


Uneasy Lies the Head...

by Mithen



Category: DCU (Movies)
Genre: First Kiss, Jealousy, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-07
Updated: 2010-08-07
Packaged: 2017-10-10 23:41:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/105730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mithen/pseuds/Mithen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They've never spoken about it, but there's something there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Uneasy Lies the Head...

Jim Gordon breathed on frozen hands, his breath billowing white around him. Bitterest winter in Gotham history and of course the crime scene was outdoors. Just once, he thought, he’d like to have a shootout between rival mafia families that took place in a cozy, heated room.

“Cold enough for you?” Lt. Patricia Wagner’s tone was ironic at the commonplace statement. She handed him a cup of steaming coffee. “Thought you might like something to take the edge off.”

“Mm.” He held it gingerly, letting the heat scald his fingertips, before wrapping his hands around it as it cooled. “Thanks.”

“Anything for the Commish,” she said with a grin. They stood side by side, watching the police comb the crime scene. As they wrapped up, she touched his arm lightly. “A few of us are going out for some beers later. If you wanted to come along...”

Her voice trailed off into an invitation, but Jim shook his head. “Thanks, Patricia. Really. But not yet.” She nodded and squeezed his arm slightly, then moved off to help wrapping up.

The last cop cars moved off--Jim waved them on, saying he’d walk home from here. He walked through the gloomy, freezing streets and wondered why he hadn’t taken Patricia up on her invitation. It wasn’t like he looked forward to going home to a cold, empty apartment. But of course, having the boss come drinking with you hardly made for a relaxing evening for the guys.

As a whisper of darkness detached itself from the shadows, he realized there was another reason.

“Gordon,” rasped a voice that sent chills down his spine. Not for the first time, Jim wondered what his personal name would sound like in Batman’s voice.

He moved into the shadows to be with the vigilante.

They talked about the crime scene, about the evidence. A gust of wind blew the dark cape up against Jim’s legs, a slithering caress.

The real reason he walked home alone.

The real reason his apartment was empty now.

They never spoke of it, never touched. But it was there between them, as real as the shadows and as intangible.

“Lt. Wagner seems to think she’s got some leads on who ordered the hit,” said Batman. “She’s a good officer.” There was a pause. “She seems very fond of you.”

“Mm-hm,” said Jim, distracted by the shapes the cape was carving in the night, wondering if it would brush against him once more. “She’s a treasure.”

Batman tilted his head to the side slightly, looking intently at him. He raised a hand and for a moment Jim thought he might actually touch him. But at the last second the movement turned into a gesture--of dismissal or blessing, Jim couldn’t tell. “Good luck on the case,” came from the shadows, and then Jim was alone again.

**: : :**

Jim tugged on his bowtie. “The damn thing’s crooked, isn’t it?” The ballroom lights were too bright, the murmur of the crowd annoying. Policeman’s Balls were a trial of the holiday season.

Patricia Wagner laughed and straightened it briskly. “Smile for the public, Commish,” she said.

Jim managed a sincere smile at her. “Thanks, Lieutenant.”

She arched an eyebrow at him. “Surely tonight you can call me Patricia?”

He laughed. “Okay then, thank you, Patri--”

“--Commissioner Gordon!” A loud voice broke in and Jim turned to see Bruce Wayne flashing an empty smile and waving a full glass of champagne at him. A little sloshed over the rim of the flute and Wayne licked it off his fingers. “Pleasure to make your acquaintance,” he slurred. “Don’t think we’ve met.”

“Oh, but we have,” Jim said with a touch of frost. “You crashed your car in front of me recently.”

“Oh, right,” Wayne said, snapping his fingers. “The Porsche. Or was it the Lamborghini?” He grinned impishly, _aren’t-I-a-naughty-boy?_ “I wreck so many cars.” Patricia Wagner rolled her eyes and moved away from the playboy, prompting a hurt look from him. “Did I offend your girlfriend? I didn’t mean to,” he confided to Jim in a stage whisper.

“I’m sure you didn’t,” Jim agreed politely, scanning the room for escape routes. Then Wayne’s words sank in. “She’s not my girlfriend,” he said a bit sharply.

Wayne gave him a tipsy, lopsided grin. “Oh come on, I saw the way you were looking at each other. That’s love, my dear Commissioner.”

“Nonsense,” Jim growled, feeling nettled. “She’s a good colleague. That’s all.”

“Well, then maybe you should stop encouraging her,” Wayne said. Jim blinked at him. Was there a slight edge of annoyance under the blurry cheer? “I mean, you’re very popular right now, and available, and I bet a lot of women throw themselves at you.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

Wayne’s well-groomed eyebrows drew together briefly. “She’s not your type anyway, you know. She’s too damn nice. You need someone more...exciting. Mysterious. Someone more dangerous.”

Jim had had about enough of this. “I don’t think my personal life is any of your business, Mr. Wayne.”

He turned to walk away, but Bruce Wayne grabbed his arm, almost roughly. _“Don’t walk away from me,”_ he said in a harsh whisper that stopped Jim dead. He stared into dark eyes, seeing the frustration and baffled fury he hadn’t seen before. Tension and a strange need, a yearning...

Jim started to laugh.

Then he leaned in and kissed Bruce Wayne, in full view of everyone, where the man couldn’t disappear, couldn’t fade into the shadows, couldn’t deny it ever again.

Batman kissed him back.  



End file.
